


The Night They Tended Bar

by collatorsden_archivist



Category: Ashes to Ashes, Life on Mars & Related Fandoms, Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, R/NC-17 - Brown Cortina, Time Period: 1973-1981 (Life on Mars)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-26
Updated: 2008-06-26
Packaged: 2019-01-20 17:18:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12437793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/collatorsden_archivist/pseuds/collatorsden_archivist
Summary: This was written for jadedgothchild, whom I miss terribly.  It has all his kinks in it from Gene in the Green shirt, needy!Sam and dirtytalk!Gene : )





	The Night They Tended Bar

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Janni, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [the Collators' Den](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Collators%27_Den), which was moved to the AO3 to ensure access and longevity for the fanworks. I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in October 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [the Collators' Den collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/collatorsden/profile).

The first time was an accident, or so Sam told himself. He had tried to squeeze by Annie who slipped on the sticky floor at the opportune moment, pushing Sam into Gene as she tried to steady herself on Sam’s arm. Sam couldn’t tell you exactly what was said, but he was sure that it started with something like Nancy, or Samantha, or maybe Gladys, followed by something that probably sounded like, ‘I don’ know how you poofs do things back in Hyde....’ Though it wasn’t lost on Sam that Gene didn’t tense up or even react at all to the sudden and close proximity of their bodies, if even for a couple of moments. So Sam tried it again, feeling bold against the large crowd and the fact that they were undercover and other than Annie, surrounded by virtual strangers. This time he dropped a rag at Gene’s feet as he was wiping down the bar, grabbing around his ankle for leverage as he crouched down to pick it up and sliding his hand maybe an inch or so on his way back up, eliciting nothing more than a sideways glance from Gene as he continued on and moved about the bar, wiping up here and serving drinks there. And as Gene got drunker and the night wore on, the crowd thinning out a bit, Sam got bolder. An excused hand on the small of the back as he passed by, a lingering touch of the fingertips as he handed him yet another drink and even a convenient blocking of the end of the bar as Gene made his way towards the bathroom. Sam wasn’t sure what had gotten into him, sure teasing Gene in private and making him squirm uncomfortably in his outwardly homophobic skin was fun, but playing his hand much larger and out right taunting him in a bar full of patrons was another thing altogether. He wondered which of the darker parts of his subconscious conjured up such a game and laughed in spite of himself as he realized he was effectively fucking with his own head, creating insane situations for insane people in this insane place he created. 

 

 

An hour or so went by and the crowd was nearly gone, just the three of them and a few of Gene’s new mates were left. Sam sent Annie on her way, care of Chris who had been stationed outside the bar in surveillance, just in case, before yelling over to the occupied table that they didn’t have to go home but they couldn’t stay there, remembering hearing that often a late night in his earlier party days. He gave them a few more minutes as he cleaned up the rest of the bar and started to gather the trash to bring into the back room. He noticed Gene finish not only his own drink, but the two that were left half empty at the table and before he could even wonder how drunk Gene actually was he saw him get up from, or rather try to get up from his seated position, landing firmly and ungracefully on his arse after a fancy bit of footwork. The two guys he befriended offered to take him home, and Sam, not sure where this little jealous streak of his had just come from, ushered them out the door and on their way, thankful they weren’t driving and wondering how they actually would have gotten Gene home at all, given the shape they were in. When they were safely out and down the street Sam locked the door and got back to the business of cleaning up. He looked over at Gene, who now lay sprawled out on the bench of the table, singing some song or other and wondering where everybody went. Sam’s eyes glazed over for a minute as he thought how easy it might be to really work Gene now, how simple it would be to just straddle him like that, right there on the bench...Then reality, or his version of reality hit and he realized that no matter how hard his mind told him this was what he wanted, no matter how much he swore he got an occasional signal or two back from the Guv, no matter how many times he could barely make it inside his lonely flat before tossing a quick one off because of all the tension, it just wasn’t going to happen, at least not in this version of reality. Sam opened his mouth to say something to Gene, who had become quiet, when he heard a distinct and unceremonious snore, and with his DCI sound asleep he set about to tidying up the place, glad that made the decision of joining the force instead of entertaining his ideas of owning a bar, thinking that the latter worked too hard and got paid too little.

 

 

Sam leaned over the sink, the last of the glasses just about washed; and likely cleaner than they had ever been before. Just as he was making a silent promise to never overlook his automatic dishwasher again if he ever got back to his own time, he was lunged at from behind, a great pair of bear arms forcing their way down on either side of him and a powerful though unstable body pinning him forcefully against the sink from the waist down. He panicked for a minute before realizing he had locked the door and that this was Gene; then he panicked even more. 

 

 

“Guv.” Was all he could think to say. “I see your nap is over.”

 

 

“Shut up, Tyler.” Gene breathed down hot on the back of Sam’s neck. “Ya think yer so cute.”

 

 

Sam tried to ignore the harsh, accusatory tone in Gene’s voice and the breath lingering warm on his skin, leaving goose bumps. “Yeah, that’s it. I think I’m cute. That’s why I played bar keep all night while you got piss poor drunk with your new friends.”

 

 

“I said, shut it, Tyler.” Gene leaned in impossibly closer, his lips against Sam’s ear. “I dunno’ what you think yer playin’ at, but it ain’t gonna be me, you hear me? Nobody plays Gene Hunt, got that?” 

 

 

“Nobody’s playing you, Gene. Why don’t you just piss off.” Sam struggled against Gene, wriggled as hard as he could, maybe too hard judging by heat and stiffness he felt pressed into his back. His initial panic turned into anger and not a little confusion as this certainly wasn’t the first time he had pushed Gene. “Let go of me you big ape.”

 

 

“Struggle all you want Sammy, I ain’t letting go. In fact,” Gene bent his knees and pushed up against Sam; his hardness no longer pushing against Sam’s back, but instead settled firmly against his arse. He groaned; a vile noise that went straight to Sam’s cock despite the protest from the rest of him, before he continued his slurring words. “I don’t think you really want me to let go. See, I watched all night, you’re a right little tart, ‘s what you are.” 

 

 

Sam shook his head and tried in vain to ignore Gene rutting up against him like a dog in heat. In his wildest of fantasies, and he sure as hell had some, this wasn’t how things would go, if they ever went at all. “You’re drunk. Come on, of course I want you to let me go.” A well timed thrust from Gene and a nip at the back of the neck had Sam ending his statement with something akin to a needy whimper.

 

 

“There it is now, there’s my good little tart. Judging by that girly little cry there Samantha, I’d say that you and Cartwright aren’t as close as people think you are. Don’t like the pretty girls do ya? Like the pretty boys maybe?” 

 

 

“I’d hardly say you were pretty, Guv...” There’s a thrust and then another in punishment for smart talk before a fumbling hand groped blindly at his crotch and what started out as another whimper left him in a grunt. “God...”

 

 

“Been awhile, has it, Sam? That why you been following me around like a puppy dog, crawling into my lap like a pet?” Gene continued to stroke, awkward and too hard but real and so good. “It’s okay, you’ll make a nice pet, you will. Do you want to be my pet, Sammy?” Gene spun Sam around and backed him against the nearest wall, chest to chest, face to face, lips grazing Sam’s as he continued. “Come on, Tyler, tell me you want it, you want this.”

 

 

Sam couldn’t speak, instead choosing to answer with a crushing kiss, all teeth and gums before Sam moaned against Gene’s mouth, opening his lips just enough for Gene to thrust his tongue against Sam’s, sending a spark of electricity through them, spurring them both on until they were clamouring for air and the need and want hung sharply in the air. Sam seized the moment and flipped them around forcing Gene up against the wall for leverage before he sunk to his knees and leaned in, pressing his face against Gene’s crotch, breathing in his essence and nuzzling him with his nose as he tackles the belt and zip with shaking hands. He looks up at Gene who is watching his every move behind heavy lidded eyes and before Sam could even comprehend fully what he was doing, his lips were around Gene’s thickness, lapping at him at first, teasing him and then engulfing him when he found strong hands on the back of his head, pushing and pulling, guiding. 

 

 

“God...Tyler, look at you on your knees, sucking me off with that pretty little mouth of yours. Ohh...I wish you could see yourself, you little slut.” In any other world Sam would be disgusted even entertaining these thoughts, but there and then he could think of nothing but Gene fucking his mouth and he moaned his approval right around Gene as he looked up at him one last time, watching him come undone for him and swallowing every drop like the good little slut he wanted to be and not stopping until he milked Gene dry.

 

 

“Teach you that in Hyde, do they then?” Gene asked, sinking down to the cold floor in his post orgasm high. Sam nodded, coy and unsure of himself, of what to do next. Gene eyed Sam, cheeks flushed red with desire and shiny red lips bruised from overuse. “I wish you could see yourself Sammy boy, needy and strung out looking. I bet you’re even prettier when you touch yourself, huh Tyler? They teach you that in Hyde too? They teach you how to lay back and stroke one off while your DCI watches? “ Gene pushes Sam back off his knees and onto his back before he settles in for a better look. “Come on, let’s see what you got in them skin tight pants of yours then.” 

 

 

Sam was on fire, and thought that he really was so strung out that he might be able to come just on the dirty talk the Guv was feeding him. He quickly unzipped and wiggled partly out of his pants, grasping at himself desperately before Gene even finished talking and moaning like a whore at his own touch, imagining it was Gene’s and choking out his name right before Gene reached over and covered Sam’s hand with his own for one, two quick pumps before he came hard up into the two fists.

 

 

They dozed off for what may have been minutes, or perhaps hours, Sam wasn’t sure, before Gene woke him up and motioned to the old sofa in the far corner of the kitchen, something that looked like a break area. Actually, he sort of kicked Sam and grunted, but the message was clear. They both got to their feet briefly before tucking back in and dropping onto the sofa to settle in for the long haul. 

 

 

“Night Guv.” Sam said.

 

 

“Night Gladys.” Gene answered.


End file.
